


Soonhui drabbles

by born_of_the_dova13



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Drabble Collection, Feels, Hahahhahaha HaPpY eNdInG WHO, Hanahaki AU, I'm Going to Hell, I'm Sorry, I'm sorry Junhui, I'm sorry Soonyoung, Internal Monologue, Jealousy, M/M, Suicide, The Author Regrets Nothing, Triggers, Unrequited Love, no happy ending, there's no happiness here, yeah - Freeform, you will cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 12:54:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12705402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/born_of_the_dova13/pseuds/born_of_the_dova13
Summary: Just some things I managed to cook up while bored. Trigger warning: Suicide





	Soonhui drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I've been dead to the world its just. I've had litterally literally NO insperation to write. At all. Hope you enjoy.

Trigger warning: Suicide

When Junhui coughs it's with a sob. When he sits down, it's in the bathtub. When he runs the water, he's still fully clothed. When he coughs again the taste of copper blooms on his tongue.

When he cries out a name for the first time, it's Minghao's.  
When he cried out again, it's Mingu.  
And again, it's Jihoon.  
And another, its Han-sol.  
Another, it's Wonwoo.  
Another, it's Jeonghan.  
Another, it's Seungchol.  
Another, it's Seokmin  
Another, it's Seungkwan  
Another, it's Joshua  
Another, it's Chan

He apologises for _everything;_ for not trying hard enough in practice, for not pushing himself harder after everyone left, for being so bad at Korean, for being such a bad member of the group, for not being pretty enough.

For not being _good_ _enough._

He knows this is drastic. He knows it's the cowards way out. The "easy" ending. He knows he will be scorned after his passing. If you asked him, he wouldn't know how to tell you why he thinks that, He just _knows._

He looked at the door - to see if it's locked - and he rolls up his sleeves.

He checks the room. The bleach is set, cap off, a cup of it on the rim. The scrubbing brushes are next to the bleach. His stuff is neatly packed into boxes in his room. The note lying on the kitchen table.

His hand does _not_  tremor as he reaches for the small razor sat on the sink. Although he does choke out a sob when he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the silver of the blade.

He looks like a _wreck_.

His hair is greasy and dirty and sweaty from practice, his teeth slightly tinged with yellow, - his food didn't really agree with him after weeks of near starvation - his eyes are shaded with bags the size of Seoul and his skin is pale and sallow.

He looks, in his opinion, like a ghost. A shell of a person trying to imitate what - _who_ \- they once were.

"Alright," He breaths, "enough. Get on with it."

He leads the blade to the skin of his wrist, the blue vein more prominent through his paper-thin skin. He digs deep and screams.

He's suddenly, immensely glad for the emptiness of the seventeen group house.

That is until he heard a door click shut.

Junhui swallows back the rest of the scream with a fist. He glances at his arm and he knows thaat he hasn't done enough, - Because when has _anything_ Junhui has done _ever_ been enough? - it won't finish the job. He drinks the cup of bleach and he wimpers as it burns down his throat and leaves a trail of fire.

He replaces the blade in the cut and finished that arm. He fumbles as he swaps the small metal from right to left.

He slashed his right forearm deeply and blinked.

He lays back and watches as his blood dyes the bathwater crimson.

What little blood that is still within his body freezes solid in freight, despite the more-than-warm water that surrounded him, when a knock almost breaks down the door.

"Junhui! I know you're in there!" Soonyung voice calls from the other side.

Junhui sobs a little and slides into the water. _'I'm tired'_ he thinks.

When Soonyoung is pounding at the door, Junhui starts to close his eyes. When Soonyoung grabs his phone and calls everyone to come home, Junhui is slipping away. When everyone else are running home, Junhui is dying.

When a strangled noise escapes Junhui, Soonyung _breaks_.

Because when Junhui breathes his last, he cries out "Soonyoung."

 ~○~

When Soonyung wrapps an arm around Chen's neck, or when he sends a cute little heart in a fan's direction, a flower awakens on Junhui's tongue. He's good at hiding it though, discrete coughs and the flower is in the next bin his route _conveniently_ takes him past. His mother used to call it "blooming." He thought it was cute. When he was younger he wanted to "bloom" too. But he never wanted  _this._

Blooming wasn't innocent and happy. It was evil and manipulative.

  
He never wanted the sour pang of jealousy or the aching pain of love.

He just wanted _Soonyoung_.

Soonyoung was his best friend. He just wanted his best friend back, but the monster of flowers was consuming him, making him into something less than wants to be. He wants something different than what he does.

He  _wants_  to scream and shout.  
He _wants_ to punch and kick.  
He _wants_ his friend back.  
He _wants_ to love  
He _wants_ to be loved

Instead, he sits, and watches. Watches as Woozi becomes closer with Soonyoung. He watches, as Soonyoung leaves his side to venture out and, most likely, never return.

Instead, he sits, and tears his heart into piece.

Maybe. Just _maybe_. If his heart is too broken, too beaten and bruised, he won't bloom. He won't bloom the sickly sweet flowers.

Maybe just _maybe_.

He _won't_ choke on the unfairness and bittersweetness of it all.

  
As he thinks, he sees Soonyung blow a kiss and a white rose falls from his lips and it mixed with the blood, the bitter mixed with the sweet, in his mouth and he watched it as it floats down to the ground. He _should_ feel sorrow, but nothing aside from anger bubbles in his chest and up his throat

He's so _angry_.

He bloomed _that_.

  
That.  
That.  
_Thing_

  
It's tainted.  
Imperfect.  
Deformed.  
Vile.  
Ugly.

Just like himself.

  
Junhui cried himself to sleep that night.

And the sound of Sooyoung's laughter rang in his ears.

In the end.

Junhui _did_ choke on the unfairness and bittersweetness of it all.


End file.
